Atrophy

I sigh my song of loss Profound sense of frustration At your hair now brittle and coarse Which fuels my sense of desolation You’ve been old my whole life But strong in belief – and mind Never guessed it could come to this Or that I’d possess thoughts this unkind Horrified by suffering Amazed by the little things Your paper-thin delicate skin Each revelation acts like bee stings Malignant emotions Swollen with a sense of shame Loved ones try to absorb your pain Yet I’m searching for someone to blame Ocean frost in my heart I clutch to such small details Firm grip or large blue eyes open Former comfort of my hometown fails May 5 you turned 95 Autumn has moved to winter When did I last see my Grandma? Easter Monday: for that I’m bitter Church associations Are hard for me to accept Just like cellular atrophy It represents what I wish to reject